He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother
by T.R. Normandin
Summary: Sam decides to get through to Dean with music but oldies? C'mon, Sam! A moment of brotherly love.


_He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother_

_T.R. Normandin_

_Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are Eric Kripke's toys, I'm just playing with them for a while. As for the song, I think the Hollies or Neil Diamond might have recorded it before the Osmonds, and I know they use it for the military in commercials now. Any or all of those people might have legal rights to the lyrics. I don't. I just like the song. And no, it's nothing to do with my unnatural obsession with Donny._

_Author's Note: This is Spoiler-ific. Dean's POV post BUABS. A little brotherly love. _

"Oh, come on, Sam! You've got to be frickin' kidding me, right? I put up with your emo crap, but seriously, The _Osmonds_? Aren't they that guy with the big teeth and the doll lady?" Dean Winchester groaned when he saw the label on the tape his brother was about to violate his tape deck with.

Sam gave his brother a bland look. "One, you don't tolerate my music, you only play yours. And two, how do you know who the Osmonds are?" he asked. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "They were parodied on SNL. Give me a break," he muttered. Recovering quickly, he said, "Let's not lose sight of the real problem here, Sammy. Jeez, if Dad were here, we'd stage a musical intervention and lock you in a room with only Metallica and Black Sabbath to entertain yourself." But then he realized what he'd said and his smile faded. There were still moments when he forgot that his dad would never help him tease Sam again.

Sam didn't comment however. He just threw his hands up in frustration. "Look, I don't even really like the Osmonds, okay? It's this song. Just listen to this one song, and then you can put on whatever heavy metal junk you want and make my ears bleed for the rest of the day. Please, Dean," he said. Dean didn't have to turn his head to know the expression on Sam's face when he asked a favor in that tone. Both he and Sam knew he was incapable of denying Sam anything he wanted when he used the puppy dog eyes. Besides, he figured he owed Sam for not using the mention of their father as an opportunity for a full on _Lifetime _moment discussion of their grief.

Sighing and sounding heavily put upon, he conceded, "Fine. But just the one song. Where did I go wrong?" Sam popped the tape into the tape deck, smiling genuinely, dimples and all. Dean wouldn't have been surprised if Sam had clapped his hands and bounced up and down, so bright was the smile on his face. If oldies music, and arguably country oldies music at that, was making Sam so happy, Dean _was_ going to have to stage an intervention. It was a matter of family honor. Dean smiled at that, thinking of all the fun he'd have torturing Sam with his own favorite songs later.

_The road is long  
With many a winding turn  
That leads us to who knows where  
Who knows where_

Dean snorted at the understatement of the words. The road he had been traveling on had taken a winding turn all right. If he had been told a year ago that he would soon be an orphan, that he would punch his brother in the face, that he would ask, no _beg_, Sam to leave the hunting life and settle down for a permanent vacation, he'd have tossed some holy water at the person just to be sure they weren't possessed.

Dean had never imagined his life moving in these directions. But he no longer felt sure what direction he did expect things to take. Every time he thought he had a handle on the soap opera that was their life, fate tossed him another curve ball. Like waking up one morning to find Sam gone and then finding out he had been possessed and had killed a man. Dean didn't know what the rules of this game were any more and the stakes were getting higher with every passing day. Damned if he didn't want to take an exit off of that long road sometimes. The deal he'd been offered by the Crossroads demon had been tempting just because it provided some closure. Death didn't seem so frightening when he had a timetable to work with. It was much harder to keep going, to live in uncertainty about his and more importantly, Sam's, safety all the time.

_But I'm strong  
Strong enough to carry him  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother_

Dean glanced over at Sam, wondering if there was some hidden meaning to these words. Was Sam trying to tell Dean that he could handle some of the burden Dean always carried on his back? The last time Dean had tried to unload some of his burden on Sam, Sam had disappeared at his earliest opportunity, and nearly gotten himself blown up, twice. No, Dean would have to be strong enough to carry his own burdens, and those of his brother as well.

He'd been neglecting Sam lately, in fact at several opportune moments he'd not only failed to make Sam feel better, but was actually the reason for Sam feeling guilty and sad and angry in the first place. Dean hadn't been strong enough to carry Sam since his father's death, since the whispered words of doom. It had been Sam who'd carried them both, who'd kept them both going, alive, together. That was going to have to change. Dad's words didn't have to change anything. Dean had always known it was his job, the greatest purpose of his life, to take care of Sam, to save him. Sure, he'd originally thought he was supposed to save Sam from his father's obsession, from losing his childhood, from becoming like Dean. But why did it have to matter _what_ Dean was saving Sam from? The important thing was that he would. The important thing was Sam and keeping him whole and safe and happy.Whether it was bullies on the playground or disillusioning reality or yellow eyed demons, anyone who wanted to hurt Sammy Winchester was going to have go through his brother first, and damned if it wouldn't have to kill him to get to Sam.

_So on we go  
His welfare is of my concern  
No burden is he, to bear  
We'll get there  
For I knowHe would not encumber me  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother_

So they were back to where they'd begun. Dean would take care of Sam. Nothing would change. He knew Sam wouldn't agree with this assessment. Sam thought that the more danger he was in, the more Dean should want to leave him alone, which just went to show that there was an inherent difference in being the big brother versus the little brother.

Dean was horrified at the thought of leaving Sam alone to deal with this demon, with his so called fate, with all of the other supernatural baddies who were attracted to Sam like pigeons to bread crumbs. Sam was _his brother_, which meant Sam was like a piece of Dean's soul, more so than anything else, even the Impala (though Dean would never admit that last bit to Sam).

Helping Sam, _saving _him, was not even a question in Dean's mind. Of course he would help Sam. Sam's welfare _was _of his concern. Even if Sam was willing to sacrifice himself to save Dean, it was a completely futile alternative to fighting this thing together. Because without Sam, there was no Dean.

_If I'm laden at all  
I'm laden with sadness  
That everyone's heart  
Isn't filled with the gladness  
Of love for one another_

Dean glanced over at Sam and saw that his brother was watching him probingly and it occurred to Dean, with a punch in the stomach that was equal parts happiness and fear that Sam felt exactly the same way about him. That without Dean, Sam would be lost too. Sam would be left with nothing. Sam lost, Sam alone, Sam hollow and empty, that was unacceptable. So Dean would have to look out for himself as well, in order to look out for his brother.

_It's a long, long road  
From which there is no return  
While we're on our way to there  
Why not share_

And the load  
Doesn't weigh me down at all  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

They would both have to be content with watching each other's backs. Both would have to come to terms with the fact that their brother needed them as much as they needed their brother. As the song came to an end, Dean once again met Sam's eyes. He held the gaze for a moment, telling Sam without words _I understand, Sam. We'll share this burden. _Even his thoughts didn't stray to the "L" word, but of course Sam knew that Dean loved him, too. When he was certain that Sam understood he'd gotten the message, Dean returned his gaze to the road.

There was a long silence as both brothers thought of times when the other had been the only thing to carry them through the obstacles placed on the long road that was their life, and the times when they had carried their brother. Neither of them regretted being the one to shoulder the burdens, only because it meant sparing their brother that same hardship. _He ain't heavy, he's my brother._ Though neither had put it in so many words before, it was as much a Winchester mantra as _We do what we do and we shut up about it_ and _No chick flick moments._

Finally, it was Dean who broke the silence, as usual. With a smirk he said, "Hey, Sammy, isn't the Teeth Guy the older brother? Doesn't that make you the doll lady?" This seemed to put him in an unusually good mood and he began to whistle. Sam leaned over to elbow his brother in the gut. "Shut up," he said, popping out the tape and putting in one of Dean's heavy metal tapes before he could even be asked. "Great come back, Samantha. Do you make the little dresses yourself?" Dean teased. Sam felt his lips twitch in spite of himself. "You're such a jerk," he said. "Yeah, and you're a bitch. But you're my bitch," Dean said, suddenly earnest again. Sam resisted the urge to point out that was a line which sounded like the start to a bad prison drama. Instead, he met Dean's earnestness with his own. "Yeah, I am," he said softly.


End file.
